by Drew Hayes
“That’s weird. I never really thought that people with the same power would function differently,” Vince said.
“It’s a curiosity, I’ll give you that,” Mr. Transport said. “All I’ve been able to figure out is that there’s no such thing as ‘the same power’ among Supers. Vast amounts of similarities, but with subtle differences between them. For example, I once knew a large amount of fellow teleporters. One woman left a shower of sparks when she vanished. One man would appear in a large cloud of dark smoke. There was even a fellow who left the smell of sulfur in the air when he jumped. All the same power in a very technical sense, yet each as unique as the Super that wielded it.”
“I see what you mean. Sort of like how shifting is the most common ability, but everyone shifts into something different,” Vince said.
“And even those who shift into the same basic form have differences between them. Two people who can shift into panther-human hybrids would still look quite different and possess individual strengths and weaknesses.”
“So you’re a teleporter who can go any distance with ease,” Vince surmised. “That doesn’t mean that every teleporter can, though.”
“Precisely.”
“I guess that makes you one of the better ones then,” Vince said.
“I’m okay,” Mr. Transport lied. “There’s always someone better.”
That last part wasn’t a lie, even if Mr. Transport didn’t know it.
96.
Nick was charming. Alice had never expected that sort of thought to cross her mind, yet as she watched him schmooze the conversation she had to admit the boy had his smoothness. It wasn’t just that he was knowledgeable on every topic that came up, or that he had an impeccable sense of manners and propriety, or even his effortless likability. It was that he had all those things and understood how to control a conversation. Nick knew the art of not talking.
He spoke infrequently, never interrupting but only interjecting when a lull occurred. He splashed in a few words or a subtle idea and then retreated. It was a series of quick, delicate strikes that gave off the impression of a young man with a competent head on his shoulders who still properly respected his elders. Alice sipped her merlot (she’d been allowed a single glass at dinner since she was a young child), pondering just how it was that someone like Nick could so effortlessly become this amazing guy.
They were in a restaurant that catered to upscale clientele. As such, it was done in very dark, muted colors, lit by a soft glow of light that was just bright enough to see that one’s food was properly cooked. It was a place that was easily missed, even by the locals, holding only a small placard on the door to indicate a restaurant was here. There were no prices on the menus and there was ample dust on the bottles. Alice used to love places like this, and while a part of her was always overjoyed at the prospect of food prepared by expert chefs, she found the atmosphere to be a bit drab. Somewhere amongst the gastrointestinal catastrophes that represented the dorm cafeterias Alice had grown accustomed to a dining environment that was more... lively.
“I must say, Nick,” Mr. Vinders’ voice blurted, breaking Alice’s reverie. “You were quite right about the ‘62 merlot. I’d never ever heard of that winery before.”
“Thank you, sir,” Nick said, dipping his head ever so slightly in a gesture of humility. “It was just some knowledge I gleaned from an old teacher. It seems that particular regions of France experienced exceptional flooding about a year before, leaving it unable to grow or produce until 1962. When they finally did, they discovered that the rain had washed new minerals from a nearby village into soil, leading to exceptional wine.”
“That’s quite the useful knowledge,” Mr. Adair said.
“I’m glad I was able to share it with you,” Nick said with a smile. He raised his glass and did a small toasting motion before treating himself to a sip.
“That’s quite a young man you have there, Alice,” Mr. Vinders said. “I wish my Beth could meet one like him.”
“Father!” Beth hissed. “I’m taking my time in choosing a worthwhile one.”
“You’ve had three years. Alice pulled it off in only one semester,” Mr. Vinders countered.
“I suppose Alice got the only good one,” Beth said, spreading her mouth into a smile while her eyes danced with rage at the happy couple.
“Keep trying. The sooner you get married the sooner you can leave that school. You’ll get yourself seriously hurt one of these days. I’d never have allowed you to attend Lander if I’d known they were letting women in the combat classes,” Mr. Vinders said. Nick began to suspect the large, mustached man had drunk a little too much of the sumptuous merlot. Fortunately, Mr. Adair was certain of that fact.
“I’m sure she’ll meet a kind boy soon,” Mr. Adair said. “Be glad she’s being choosy, though. After all, a man like you would surely reject ninety-nine percent of the boys who would try to date a girl as lovely as your daughter.”
“Quite true,” Mr. Vinders agreed.
“Thus it is both prudent and efficient for her to only bother bringing around the ones who truly have a chance at being worthy of her,” Mr. Adair said. “But I think that’s enough about our daughter’s love lives for the moment. Shall we get down to more immediate matters?”
“I’ve told you already, Charles, I’m not comfortable selling out my company unless I’m certain you won’t go on a firing and outsourcing spree,” Mr. Vinders said, his face immediately growing serious.
“I assure you, the headcount will remain unchanged should your company find itself in my employ,” Mr. Adair said. He reached out onto the table and plucked up a small black menu. “However, I find talks like best done between two gentlemen in solace, save for a good brandy. The immediate business I was referring to was dessert.”
“Ha!” Mr. Vinders let out a chuckle and slapped the table. In a fine dining restaurant, such a thing would have been unacceptable. In a place like this acceptability was determined purely by whoever had the most money in the room. “Right you are, Charles. Let’s leave business for after we drop off the kiddies. At the moment I’d rather do some serious damage to a good crème brûlée.”
* * *
Vince and Mr. Transport lounged in the straw chairs, resting their feet in the smooth currents of the ocean.
“This beats the cafeteria,” Vince said.
“This beats damn near everything,” Mr. Transport said. He took a long drink from the pink liquid in his clay cup. The punch was another specialty of the shop and a feature that made this slice of paradise even more enjoyable.
“Yeah, I’ll give you that one,” Vince agreed. “I do love the water. Makes me wish I was looking forward to the river trip more.”
“What’s wrong with the river trip? I’ve heard it’s a highlight of freshman year at Lander.”
“There’s going to be a lot of drinking,” Vince said. “I’m still figuring out how to be part of that whole scene when I don’t want to join in.”
“Just be,” Mr. Transport said. “Contrary to what after-school specials will tell you, people who are drinking don’t really care all that much if you’re not. It translates to more beer for them anyway.”
“Heh. I suppose that is a good point.”
“Why the hang up, though? I mean, most kids your age like to experiment a little.”
“Most kids my age haven’t spent their whole lives out of control,” Vince pointed out. “I’m a little worried that anything that messes with my brain chemistry will send me right back to where I was.”
“That’s nothing to worry about. We told you there’s no chemical compound that can change you back. You’re a Super for life.”
“Fear isn’t often rational,” Vince said.
Mr. Transport took another sip of his drink, mulling over Vince’s words. He then extended the cup to his silver-haired charge.
“Fear isn’t rational, but facing it can be,” he said. “Try a sip.”
“I’m... um, well I’m
underage.”
“Actually, in this part of the world there is no legal drinking age, so no, you aren’t,” Mr. Transport said. “Aside from which, we’re surrounded by a small population and you’ve probably only got a little bit of energy stored up. I can easily teleport you somewhere deserted if you start blasting fire at the trees. There is literally no situation I can think of where it’s safer for you to take a sip of alcohol.”
“But why take the chance?”
“Because hopefully you’ll have a long life ahead of you, and in it there will be tons of things that might take away control. I’m not saying to get shitfaced or become a drug addict, I’m just saying that I’d rather not see a kid like you spend his life always afraid that fun will automatically be punished by a return to a shittier point in life,” Mr. Transport said.
Vince tentatively reached over and accepted the cup, then took a short sip. He handed it back to Mr. Transport, who took a much larger one.
“That was actually pretty good,” Vince admitted.
“Yeah,” Mr. Transport agreed. “Feeling like you’re about to blast the shit out of something accidentally?”
“Not yet,” Vince said, settling back in his seat. “I think we better relax by the ocean for a bit longer though, just in case.”
“Good idea.”
* * *
“Charles, do you mind if we borrow the limo for a bit so I can drop my daughter off and say goodbye?” Mr. Vinders asked as they pulled up to the parking lot nearest Melbrook.
“Not at all,” Mr. Adair said. “It will give me a chance to say goodnight to Alice as well. Swing back by when you are done.”
“Of course,” Mr. Vinders agreed. Mr. Adair, Alice, and Nick all departed from the limousine. It puttered off slowly across campus, aimed at a different housing area.
“So good to see you again, dear,” Mr. Adair said, hugging Alice lightly.
“You, too, Daddy. Feel free to come visit again.”
“I will keep it in mind,” Mr. Adair said with a smile. “If it isn’t too much trouble, may I ask the chance to speak privately to your boyfriend?”
“I really don’t think you need to do that,” Alice began.
“It is every father’s right to put a touch of fear into his daughter’s suitor,” Mr. Adair said, turning toward Nick.
“It’s fine, Alice,” Nick assured her, flashing a confident and relaxed grin. “I’ll be inside in a minute or two.”
“Nick, you really don’t need to-”
“Don’t be silly,” Nick said, cutting her off. “A gentleman covets the right to speak earnestly with his lady’s father.”
“Um... okay... I guess,” Alice said. She walked slowly back to Melbrook. Both Nick and her father kept her in their peripheral vision until she was in the door, but neither took their focus off the other. It was only after the door had solidly shut behind her that words were at last spoken.
“You’re not actually dating Alice,” Mr. Adair said simply.
“You’re going to slash the shit out of Mr. Vinders’ company,” Nick replied.
Mr. Adair raised an eyebrow. “What makes you say that?”
“You called first, you show your hand,” Nick said.
“Fine,” Mr. Adair agreed. “You’re too smart for her, she was too comfortable when you touched her around her father for there to be any legitimate intimacy, you don’t particularly care for her, and she was not nearly nervous enough. Shall I continue?”
“No,” Nick said. “That was good. You’re a smart man and a good liar.”
“That’s how you knew I plan to gut the company?”
“Yes. Remove humanity and it’s a simple business decision. I’m sure you’ll find a fancy way to word the contract, but it was a simple deduction to make. It’s what I would have done,” Nick said.
“That might be the first thing you’ve said all night that I believe,” Mr. Adair said. “Your act did cheer my daughter, though, so I suppose I owe you some thanks.”
“Consider the meal thanks enough,” Nick said. “Are we done here?”
“Depends; are you planning on chatting up the younger Vinders and letting her know about my business intentions?”
“Not even slightly,” Nick said. “You played along with my ruse, I’ll ignore yours. You were wrong about something, though.”
“Do tell.”
“I care enough about Alice to tell her father what a bastard he is for baiting and switching the poor girl with a visit like that.”
“She loathes business dinners and I needed her attendance in order to secure the meal,” Mr. Adair said unapologetically.
“I didn’t expect you to be sorry,” Nick said. “Just felt you should know that you’re an asshole.”
“Nothing new, I assure you,” Mr. Adair replied.
“Good. Now we’re done,” Nick said. He began walking toward Melbrook. As soon as he opened the door he saw Alice waiting, pacing along the floor.
“How was it?”
“Standard dad stuff,” Nick said, slipping into his usual persona. “Touch my daughter wrong and I’ll have the FBI and the CIA erase you from existence. Nothing new.”
“That’s good at least. A little surprising from him, but good.”
“Yeah. Now, if you don’t mind, that heavy meal has me tuckered out. I need to get some sleep,” Nick said.
“Oh yeah, no problem,” Alice said, stepping out of his way. “But I just wanted to say thanks.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Nick said, waving her off. “You saved my life, it’s the least I could do.”
“I know, but... still.”
“We’re cool, Alice,” Nick said gently. “Helping each other in rough spots is what friends are for.”
Alice smiled. “I’m starting to realize that.”
97.
“Sounds like you did a real good thing,” Gerry commented as he chomped into the greasy, cheese-soaked burger before him.
“Sure, it was a great thing. I showed one of the people I live with that there’s more to me than the persona I’ve been rocking all year, I spent the evening with some truly boring people, and I managed to call one of the richest man on the planet an asshole,” Nick summed up. He fiddled with his sunglasses, getting used to them once more. “It was smart choices all around.”
“You called him an asshole while sticking up for his kid,” Gerry pointed out. “There’s thankfully few fathers in the world who can hold a grudge against that.”
“He very well could be one of them,” Nick said. “What’s done is done, though. Alice’s night was a lot better than what it would have been without me.”
“I’m proud of you, Campbell,” Gerry said sincerely.
“Glad to hear it, because I think we both know I didn’t do all that for her,” Nick said.
Gerry simply nodded his head. “So what else is going on this weekend?”
“Tomorrow... well, I guess today now,” Nick said, checking his watch. It was past two in the morning. “Anyway, today they take the parents down to the underground levels and show them their kids’ classrooms. There’s a cute speech by the dean and the opportunity to meet the coaches. For the less trusting of parents I’m sure they can ask for progress reports as well.”
Gerry wrinkled his nose. “Seems more like high school than college.”
“Agreed, which is why we won’t be attending. Honestly, I think they only do it because it’s more palatable for a parent to actually see what their child is going through rather than just know they’re being trained in some mysterious program. Giving them a weekend is the path of least annoyance for the school,” Nick speculated.
“You’re probably dead on with that one,” Gerry agreed. “So if we’re skipping the function, what did you have planned?”
Nick shrugged. “Nothing too exciting. I thought we’d jump in my car and I’d show you the town.”
Gerry laughed. “How about we take mine instead? I got a real nice one from the rental company.”
“You trying to say something about my ride?”
“Not at all, kid, not at all. Did you end up going with the ‘won it on a slot machine’ lie?”
“Yup,” Nick said.
“Why not just tell people you bought it? Tons of kids buy cars, it wouldn’t have made you stand out,” Gerry said.
Nick shook his head. “Too responsible. I’m trying to capture the image of a guy who is irresponsible and flies by the seat of his pants. Planning and saving for a car doesn’t mesh as well as just cheating and winning it.”
“Fair point, I suppose,” Gerry agreed. “Still not sure why you insisted on a Bug, though.”
“I can’t win too much. If I’d brought back a Ferrari or something people would have felt jealousy. Winning a Bug, though, that’s a cute anecdote at best.”
“I see where you’re coming from, but it still makes me chuckle,” Gerry said. “I mean, if I told the girls that Nicholas Campbell was driving around in a Bug, they’d bust a gut laughing.”
“Which is why it will never leave Lander, right?” Nick asked.
Gerry gave a Nick a big smile. “I’m waiting to see your grades before I go making any promises.”
* * *
Alice still couldn’t sleep. She’d drifted off from time to time, but the rest was always shallow and the dreams too vivid. She had tried a glass of milk, a warm shower, and even counting sheep, yet sleep was still remaining elusive to her. The most troubling part was she knew exactly why. She couldn’t sleep because of Nick.
Alice had grown up with her only social interactions taking place in the world of high society. She’d met with diplomats, entrepreneurs, and politicians, and had slowly learned to see through the lies in their smiles. They were all two-faced, and eventually Alice was able to penetrate their disguises, noticing the small tics and habits that didn’t go along with the person they were pretending to be. She’d thought herself quite good at it when she arrived at Lander, ready to classify and manipulate everyone in sight. She hadn’t been prepared for what greeted her, an entire mass of people her age who didn’t bother with such pretense. Most of whom couldn’t, actually. It seemed like people were more occupied with finding out who they were than in deciding who they wanted everyone to see them as.
